


going broke is better than having a pet die (sequel to 'microwaves, lizards and love confessions')

by itsmaz410



Series: dumb boys with phones equal chaos [2]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Crying, Fluff, M/M, So is ringo, Tattoos, and theres some more chaos in this edition yall, crack kinda, george is queer, good stuff, so much drunk shenanigans, some frogs too? yea, stuff like thst, text fic, them boys are here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 11:09:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20563313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmaz410/pseuds/itsmaz410
Summary: can we buy a microwave2 members online11:34 amuncle macca: victorias fUCKIN SECRET WHYrigno: i wanted to know her secret :((rigno: why is her secret a bad thingThey're back, by no popular demand, but that's chill.





	going broke is better than having a pet die (sequel to 'microwaves, lizards and love confessions')

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't read the first fic, pls do so!  
(it's called microwaves, lizards and love confessions)  
thanks !!
> 
> tumblr: mazzy410   
send an ask! say hi!

Going shopping while practically broke was possibly the worst idea they have acted on.  
But, they've done it, and Paul has lost everyone in the process. He's panicking as he frantically texts the groupchat, sitting on the sofa that most malls usually have for people to sit on. 

can we buy a microwave  
1 member online

11:28 am

uncle macca: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GIYS  
uncle macca: please dont tell me u left yer pjones at home i swear to fuckn  
uncle macca: i maY CRY WHERE ARE YOU

He lets out a low whine as he looks around, his leg starting to bounce rapidly again. Paul had literally made John hold George's hand so they wouldn't get lost, but it just fucking happened anyway. They had been going to buy some nice cheap fucking groceries, and he had ordered them to behave.  
And now he's stuck, in a huge mall, without his best friends, holding a bag of bread and some food dye and sprinkles. 

can we buy a microwave  
2 members online

11:32 am

uncle macca: guys please where are u 

rigno: so many underwear like help

uncle macca: RITCHIE!! wait where r u

rigno: undies mate

Paul is relieved to see that Ringo's online, but he's still definitely confused. Until it hits him. Oh, god Ringo, why? Why are you in that shop? It's a women's shop?  
Unless a guy went in for himself, sure, that's perfectly fine.  
Like, he wouldn't be angry if any of the boys wanted to buy that sort of stuff, he'd support them of course, but Ringo, what? 

can we buy a microwave  
2 members online

11:34 am

uncle macca: victorias fUCKIN SECRET WHY

rigno: i wanted to know her secret :((  
rigno: why is her secret a bad thing

uncle macca: because people go there to b u y underwear its like a kinky thing i guess

rigno: victoria nooo why  
rigno: wait imma buy smthn fer george oh my god

uncle macca: this is the groupchat mate

rigno: so?  
rigno: oh  
rigno: geo babe im so sorry

Paul is holding back his giggles, but at least he knows where Ritchie is. So with a happier bounce in his step, he heads toward the lingerie shop.

Meanwhile, George is trying to find his license so he can tell the guy that he's really of age to get a tattoo. He really doesn't look like a 16 year old, does he?  
"Sorry, mate, m'tryna find me license-", George mutters as he searches his pockets frantically. The guy serving him just looks slightly annoyed.  
Fuck. He just wanted to get a goddamn tattoo.  
"Sorry, really, uhm, lemme jus'-"  
And then, he finds his fucking license.  
The tattoo guy actually looks disappointed that he has to give this awkward, scrawny kid who wandered in without hesitation, a tattoo. It'll be something horrible, he bets.  
"How many beers ya had, kid?" 

George frowns at the tone in the guy's voice. "No sir, I ain't drunk."  
He had just one beer. That was all. He swears. 

Ringo is busy in Victoria's Secret, admiring a purple shiny lacy thing that had black straps. He actually thinks George might wear it, honestly. Or maybe a blue bra thingy.  
Paul storms in, his face red and eyebrows furrowed so much that he looks as if he's constipated.  
"Ringo! What the fuck are ye doin' in here, huh?"  
"I told ye already, I was curious abou' her secret, mate.."  
Paul glares at Ringo. "The secret's her vagina or sumthin' okay, let's just please go find the others, yeah?"  
"Me baby Geo went down ta tha food court I think."

Ringo still buys a weird corset that has pink fluff extending from the edges. 

When they do find George half an hour later, he's in a fucking tattoo parlour. Ringo beams and hurries over, kissing him gently on the lips, before seeing the tattoo.  
"Ye his boyfriend or sumthin'?" The tattoo guy, his nametag reading Jack, asks gruffly. His skin is inked with weird stuff. One tattoo says 'porridge' but Ringo decides to not ask about it. Maybe the guy had a grudge with porridge, who knows?  
He nods to answer Jack's question, but he's holding back his laughter at the tattoo that his boyfriend is getting inked on his skin.  
'out of milk since four hour' is what George's wrist says so far, in ultramarine bold letters.  
George grins happily. "Outta milk since four hours ago!"  
Paul sees the half done tattoo and begins to actually cry. 

Soon enough, he ends up dragging everyone out, interrupting the tattoo artist, but making sure George gets the healing treatment for his horrible tattoo. He didn't want George to get his dumb tattoo infected and have him be whining for weeks.  
"Why didn't ya lemme get it done?"  
"Punishment, bitch. We need ta find John now, look what ye've done-"

can we buy a microwave  
2 members online

12:32 pm

uncle macca: joooohnnyyyy boooy  
uncle macca: were comin 4 u

georgie porgie: creepy soundin innit

Paul scoffs as he looks up at George. "Jus' tryna make him check his goddamn phone, Geo." George just smiles and kisses Ringo's cheek. 

John is crying while sitting in a fucking baby toy aisle when they find him. He's reading a kid's book about frogs and mumbling nonsense. His face is red and there's tears rolling down his cheeks.  
"John, mate. Hey, what's up?" Paul asks gently, as he crouches beside him. They all look a bit out of place, with George having a half done ultramarine tattoo on his arm, Ringo holding a fluffy corset while he watches Paul crouch on a baby shop floor and comfort his crying friend.  
John sniffles sadly. "Wish I waaass... a frog."  
Paul sighs deeply through his nose and picks John up bridal style. The frog book is definitely left behind as the cashier stares them all down while they awkwardly leave.  
Why was John so fucking drunk that he cried over a frog book?  
Nobody knows, really.

They get home to their cozy little microwave-less house that now is also home to a god damned snake. Yes, they kept the fucking snake. Paul carries John in the door, dropping him on the couch before he whirls around to Ringo and George.  
"Why is he drunk?"  
George gets a stupid 'innocent' smile on his face as he shrugs his shoulders, looking away and hiding a giggle. Ringo is actually seemingly innocent, just inspecting the fluffy corset from Victoria's Secret.  
Before Paul can begin to furiously reprimand poor George, the guy suddenly clasps his hands together in a pleading motion. Here we go.  
"Can't we all jus' get drunk? Uncle Macca, ye gotta loosen up a bit," George whines, blinking his puppy dog eyes and pouting. John definitely didn't drink the last 5 bottles they had. Psh. Paul initially says no, but then it turns to a hesitant maybe. When George gets on his knees and begs for them all to have a booze night, he can't really say no.  
"There ain't no bevy's in tha house though," Ringo says, peeking from over the kitchen counter after frantically searching for a bottle.  
"RINGO, YER GOIN' AND BUYING EM!" George yells, pointing at him excitedly.  
"Don't ye ferget yer license, ye daft fuck," Paul sighs.  
And Ringo is sent out the door.

can we buy a microwave  
3 members online

2:12 pm

rigno: i hate u all

uncle macca: no ya dont  
uncle macca: ye love us! u lov george the most tho

rigno: truuuueee aaaaaaw

georgie porgie: rignoooo u softieeee

rigno: psh shuddup ye pretty lil angel  
rigno: at the store now bai

uncle macca: bai betch

George is smiling goofily at his phone when Paul shoves his own in his pocket. "Lovesick lad ye are, aye?" George scoffs and grins, but then John giggles from his position on the couch. Paul looks over and sees that he's manhandling their snake. The snake looks pissed, tongue flicking out as its tail curls and jerks around, but John doesn't seem to notice.  
Paul gets kind of sidetracked as he watches the drunken guy on the couch, noticing how his face is pink and he's giggling like a little loony, his tongue poking out every time he laughs. His hair is all messy and a bit curly at the nape of his neck where sweat has gathered. His shirt is wrinkled and riding up a little, and Paul tears his eyes away from the skin showing. John's glasses are slightly askew, slipping further down his nose as he pretends to use the snake as a microphone stand.  
The snake.  
Oh, shit.  
Paul snaps back into the present and darts forward, taking the snake from John's hands and hurriedly handing it to George, who actually knows how to look after snakes.  
John just whines and mumbles something about wanting to sing, and Paul sighs as he fixes the guy's glasses and pats down his really soft hair.

He really is the mother in the group, huh?

George wanders over to the tank, placing the snake, who he had named Sir Duke Hellfire Snake Boy, on his favourite rock. He grins as Sir Duke Hellfire Snake Boy curls up contentedly under the light of his lamp. The snake had lots of personality, really. He liked to bite people and hiss a lot, and often tried to scare Paul by curling around his pillow each morning.  
George was an extremely proud owner, and Ringo often helped him out with looking after Sir Duke. They were the gay parents of a snake, and they loved it.  
After checking the tank is locked, he looks around for the shorter brunette.  
Paul was standing outside with a cigarette in his fingers, looking rather agitated. He really needed to have a bevy night with the rest of them. 

"I'M HOME LADS!" Ringo bursts through the front door with a whole bunch of alcohol. He looks slightly tipsy already, and instantly goes to give George a long and rather intense kiss. Oh, fuck yeah. Kissing is good shit.  
George can taste the alcohol on Ringo's lips.  
Paul is already unpacking the bottles, and his head shoots up to glare at poor Ringo when he sees that two bottles are already missing from a carton. Ringo just giggles drunkenly in response.  
When John hears the clinking of bottles, he gasps and hurriedly clambers over the back of the couch. But since he's drunk as a depressed man at a bar who's girlfriend just broke up with him, he falls heavily to the ground and screeches loudly, arms waving frantically.  
"THA BEVVIES ARE HERE! GIMME GIMME GIMMEEEEE!"  
The hangover will be horrible for him.  
Paul gets a weird look on his face when he watches John, a tiny little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It's kind of similar to the one Ringo gets when he stares at George lovingly.  
Ringo's helping John up, both snickering loudly as they lean against eachother for support. Ringo's only had two bottles. What a damned lightweight. George helps himself to a bottle, and soon enough they're all rather hammered.

can we buy a microwave  
4 members online

3:32 pm

john wants cash: hhhhhbaf  
john wants cash: helo  
john wants cash: hhhha ,im drunkl

uncle macca: HEY JOGN

rigno: i am hear wherer are you guiys

georgie porgie: hahahsd wanns gut marryd ?

rigno: I DO

uncle macca: marrige is lovely can me marrt jhon pleas

They're sat in the living room, surrounded by bottles and cigarette butts, giggling as they nearly drop their phones every 20 seconds. After a while, they all resorted to texting, which was probably going to be helpful for the next morning. George is face down on the floor, an arm over Ringo's back. He might be kissing the carpet. Paul is laughing at his phone screen, while John is trying to chew on his own hand with a weird intensity.  
Alcohol is a scary thing sometimes.  
Ringo suddenly gets up while shoving George over, using the couch to steady him as he raises his bottle and yells, "MARRY ME GEORGIE PLEASE?"  
George makes a muffled moaning noise in response.  
"Ye need like,.. dresses?" John says as he pulls his mouth away from his hand. Ringo gasps, downs the rest of his bottle, then stumbles slowly up the stairs. 

In a few minutes, multiple clothing items come flying down the stairs.  
John pulls himself off the couch with a groan and a burp, then lurches toward the pile of clothes. He finds a pink dress which looks like an adults costume of a Disney princess, a multi-coloured polyester jumpsuit, 3 pairs of high heels, a chunky pearl necklace, a stained t shirt showing a picture of Kermit, and an actual wedding dress that was a horrifying colour palette of purple, neon green, hot pink and fluro yellow.  
Who the hell got married in that?  
Paul squeals in excitement at the jumpsuit, instantly stripping off and wriggling into it.  
Ringo steals the Disney princess dress, while John grabs the Kermit t-shirt. Poor George is left to wear the hideous wedding dress and the heavy pearl necklace.  
They also choose shoes. John gets fucking glittery red high heel boots that reach his thighs, George gets dirty bunny slippers, Ringo wears bright orange high heels, and Paul gets thick yellow high heel crocs that look like cheese.  
Ringo disappears into the bathroom, then soon marches out with red lipstick smeared over his lips, bright blue eyeshadow and glittery cheeks. 

The wedding takes place in the backyard.

Paul, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, and a Bible for kids in the other, is to be the priest. John throws dead grass and weeds in the haphazardly put together path. He also plays his own, drunken rendition of 'Here Comes the Bride' on harmonica whilst missing half the notes due to crying hysterically.  
The backyard was a fucking mess. A ladder was broken by the shed, there was more dead grass than growing grass, and the ground was littered with cigarette butts. Though in the eyes of the four men, it was a celebration of love and the most beautiful wedding that could be provided. Ringo walks (more like stumbles) down the 'aisle', a bagel wrapped around his finger like a ring, and meets face to face with his newfound husband, George, who looks ridiculous with his half done tattoo, his horrible dress, and his hair, which is tied into two little shitty pigtails.  
There's even a rainbow headband.

Paul gulps down a bit more of his drink before he clears his throat to speak.  
"Bearly Deloved," he starts, rather intelligently, "We are gathered here today to celebrate a joining of two b-beautiful soulmates. Yesss, indeeeedily. Soulmates! They have names, too. Their names are ..Ritchie Bitchie and Gurgling George."  
John then cheers loudly, throwing more dead grass and clapping for a bit too long, nearly hitting himself in the face multiple times.  
"We will now begin with the vows. Gurgling George, the floor is yours."  
George steps forward unsteadily.  
Then he lets out a one, long, ugly belch.  
Ringo bursts into tears.  
"That.. was so beautiful, d-darling," he manages in between sobs. John hiccups, then plays a wavering note on his harmonica that ends up sounding like an out of tune trombone.  
"Wonderful, Mr. Gurgling George. You.. You really do have a way with words," Paul praises, then turns to Ringo. "Ritchie Bitchie, it is now your turn to do t-the ..thingy."  
John throws more grass.  
"Gurgling G-Geeeeorgie," Ringo begins, taking Paul's bottle to sip a bit. He then starts to giggle because 'gurgling' was a funny word. "Gurgling issa funny word," he announces. The four of them giggle immaturely for a good two minutes.  
Paul then silences everyone with a burp. "Alright. Ritchie Bitchie Boo, you may now smooch the bride."  
Ringo leans in, puckering his lips obnoxiously. George leans in as well, and their lips meet for exactly 4 seconds. Suddenly, John swoops in and begins to drunkenly drag George away on unstable feet. He doesn't make it far, but Paul lets out a screech.  
"Runaway bride!" Paul bellows, dropping his children's Bible and bottle to pursue a chase. He completes three steps before he collapses into sleep.  
George and John fall asleep on top of eachother, George beginning to snore instantly, while Ringo sways unsteadily for a moment. Then he too falls asleep, landing on top of Paul's discarded Bible. 

George wakes up first. A loud, painful thumping fills his head. After a moment, he hoists himself into sitting up straight. Around him is a confusing display of weeds and grass, John's harmonica, a Bible, and bottles and bottles of alcohol. The other three lay in various positions around the yard. Ringo is wearing a Disney princess dress. Why on earth is he wearing a fucking dress? Why is his face covered in lipstick?

Then, George looks down at himself, and nearly screams. Oh, dear god.

It must have been a bevy night, George thinks, millions of questions clogging his head.  
Why were they all outside? When did they start drinking? How long ago was that? What time is it now? Why am I wearing a wedding dress? Who did I get married to? How did a Bible get here? Why does my arm hurt? Whe--  
Paul's gruff yawn interrupts George's train of thought. Paul murmurs something that sounds like 'John', then rolls over and groans loudly.  
His head aches.  
"Do ye remember anythin' tha' happened last night, mate?" George whispers, his throat burning as his voice comes out hoarse. Paul slowly looks around, blinking. Silence falls for a long moment. He then shrugs dopily and flops backwards, laying down once more. "Nope," Paul mumbles, rubbing his eyes.  
Fuck.  
George crawls over to Ringo, his stomach lurching as he gently shoves his boyfriend's shoulder. "Wake uuup, pretty boyy.." He sighs, stopping to admire Ringo's sleeping face, even though it's covered in smudged makeup. 

Soon enough, they're all awake. George fucking yeets away and hunches over the toilet, while Ringo goes and holds his hair back, taking out his little headband and piggytails.  
John and Paul collapse on the couch, tiredly snuggling up together while sharing a cigarette.  
"Hey, John, check yer phone, we might'a texted or sumthin'," Paul murmurs, eyes closed.  
John's jaw drops at the conversation that is seen in the groupchat.

can we buy a microwave  
4 members online

3:12 pm 

uncle macca: helo i lovh john  
uncle macca: mmmm bevy nifght

georgie porgie: i loveriingo  
georgie porgie: he fuckgn secxy  
georgie porgie: whnna kiss him  
georgie porgie: i loeve him so mucgh ohgyod

uncle macca: jogn has a hot face thgouh  
uncle macca: verrrrrhy pretty

georgie porgie: riaaaaaango

rigno: BEVY NIIIIGTHTGD

georgie porgie: HELLUOUHHGGG

rigno: hehaahehaehahf fUck

john wants cash: hhhhhbaf  
john wants cash: helo  
john wants cash: hhhha ,im drunkl

uncle macca: HEY JOGN

rigno: i am hear wherer are you guiys

georgie porgie: hahahsd wanns gut marryd ?

rigno: I DO

uncle macca: marrige is lovely can me marrt jhon pleas

"Macca, mate?" John starts hesitantly, looking over at Paul. Paul doesn't open his eyes, but he hums in acknowledgment, letting out a yawn. John doesn't know how to really process what he had just read. Paul might've just been drunk and that had made him overly affectionate? Maybe?  
"Uhm, ye might wanna read the texts, buddy," John mumbles, awkwardly holding out the phone. Maybe Paul would give him some clarification, maybe he would laugh and pass it off as the alcohol talking.  
But Paul's face goes bright red as his eyes skim over the drunken texts.  
"Uhm."  
"Yeah." John shifts a little, unsure. Before Paul can say anything more, the bathroom door opens and Ringo guides a shaky George out, sitting him down on a dining room chair and grabbing him a glass of water.  
Paul frowns and gets up, setting a hand on George's shoulder. "S'he alright?" He asks, lighting another cigarette before he gazes at Ringo worriedly. Ringo nods, placing pills for George's headache down beside the glass of water. "Jus' threw up all of his organs, but 'e's fine," he answers with a grin.

John ambles over, squinting at the bright sunlight that filters into the house, then he presses the most subtle kiss on Paul's shoulder, just to see what he would do.  
Paul definitely feels the little kiss, and his mind goes into a fucking frenzy. Holy shit, did he do that because of the drunk texts? Does John think that he has a crush? What the fuck, he's not gay.  
Obviously he supports that stuff, but like, he himself isn't gay.  
John just rests his chin on Paul's shoulder calmly, watching George as he takes the pills.  
"So, wha' happened last night?" Ringo asks, stretching.  
Paul blinks. Oh, hell. They'd all see his drunken texts too, and that would raise a thousand more questions. "Um, nothin' too important."  
George raises an eyebrow.  
"Then, why does me boyfriend have a face full'a makeup, an' why d'ye have fuckin' yellow shoes? An' why did we wake up with a Bible? An' why did I have a fuckin' wedding dress on?"  
God, he had so many questions. Paul flops into a chair tiredly, puffing on his cigarette, while George stares him down. "Apparently, you an' Ritchie got married las' night."  
When he hears that, Ringo's face lights up and he lets out a loud laugh, while George just sighs and steals Paul's cigarette.  
"Say aye if ye never wanna have a Bevy Night again."  
"Aye."  
"Aye! Oh, definitely-"  
"Haven't ye checked yer phones? That chat is golden now, lads."  
Paul's heart drops.

"Oooh, Paul was a bit gay las' night.. S'a bit cute, aye?" George snickers. Ringo gives Paul a knowing glance, and John just rolls his eyes, acting as if he hadn't previously known about it. Poor Paul doesn't understand what Ringo's glance was about, so he grabs his cigarette back and quickly finishes it off. 

Their hangovers had lessened by the late afternoon, so John waltzes into Ringo's bedroom, grinning wickedly. He's holding a little jar of nail polish, waving it around in the air as he sways his hips, trying to grab Ringo's attention.  
"What d'ye want, ye git?" Ringo mutters without looking up from his book. John pouts dramatically and drags himself over to the bed, elbows digging into the mattress. He went to Ringo first, because he proved to be the most likely person to agree to his weirdly fun activity ideas.  
"Nail paintin', Ritchie! We can snuggle up in tha' living room an' paint eachothers nails, while whinin' abou' stuff, like all the ladies do at sleepovers!" John says, with a delighted little grin on his face. He's desperate to do it.  
Ringo raises an eyebrow impassively.  
"Please, Rings?" John asks, in the softest voice he can muster. 

That's why the four are lazily situated around the living room 10 minutes later with multiple bottles of nail polish. George is sprawled on the couch with Ringo snuggled beside him, while John is inspecting the colours they have available. Paul is laying on his stomach upon the floor, eyes focused on John.  
"Ritchie, what colour d'ye want?"  
"Uh, let's go with that bright orange," and Ringo has to duck to avoid getting hit with the tiny flying bottle. John chooses black, while Paul asks for a sea blue colour with glittery specks. George decides to choose pink and yellow, wanting to have multiple colours. 

They're having a great time, and Paul's cheeks get pinker and pinker as he watches John concentrate hard on perfecting his nails. George is drying his nails by waving his hands around while dancing around the living room, and Ringo's painting one of John's hands with an easygoing grin.  
Then George knocks the bright orange bottle of nail polish onto the carpet.  
"Shit."  
When Paul hears the soft exclamation from George, he snaps out of his loving trance with John and lets out the most horrified gasp, scrambling off of the couch in seconds.  
"GEORGE HARRISON, WHAT DID YOU DO?"  
"I WAS DRYING ME NAILS, OKAY, CALM YER FARM-"  
"NO, IT'LL FUCKING STAIN, YOU ABSOLUTE DINGUS!"  
Ringo can't stop his laugh as Paul fucking runs to get the cleaning supplies, not even moving to try and help the situation as he goes back to painting John's nails. George picks up the half empty bottle on the floor and screws the lid back on, pouting.  
Paul marches back over furiously, his face screwed up and bright red. "Oh, don't you fucking pout at me, young man!" John snorts loudly and gets a big smear of black polish up his finger. 

By the time Paul finishes scrubbing the bright orange out of the carpet, there's still a faint mark left over. He lets out an angry defeated wail, and collapses on top of John who is sat upon the couch. John grunts and shifts his hands so they're lifted in the air, not wanting to mess up his nails any further.  
"George, yer motherfuckin' grounded."  
"Uncle Macca, nooo!" George shrieks, then turns and hides his face in Ringo's chest, starting to make dramatic sobbing noises. Ringo hides a grin, instead schooling his face into a frown. "Look what ye've done, makin' me baby boy cry! How could ye, Uncle Macca? How could ye!"  
Paul rolls his eyes.

A few minutes later, Ringo's on his phone.  
"Hey, Paul, what was that thing with John you were on about while you were drunk? Like, ye were sayin' how hot he was an' stuff." Paul's face goes red, but then John raises his eyebrows and stares at him with a smirk.  
"What was he sayin', Ritchie?"  
Ringo clears his throat and begins, grinning with his eyes on his phone. "Paul says, 'Hello, I love John.' Then like, Geo goes on about me fer a bit, then Paul says again, 'John has a hot face though, very pretty.' Then John sends a text and Paul goes, 'Hey, John!' So like, thas' fucking gay."  
George hums and nods in agreement. "As an official legalised gay myself, I gotta say, thas' fuckin' gay, mate. So, what, ye got yerself a crush on our boy Johnny, aye?"  
Not ready for the sudden interrogation, Paul splutters, making to move away from the couch and stand, but John holds him tightly with a smart little grin.  
Ringo snickers loudly.  
"I ain't gay though?" Paul says, though it sounds like he's asking himself.  
"Ye sure?" George asks, smirking,  
"Well, like, uhm." Paul stammers, shifting awkwardly.

John suddenly gets an idea.  
He leans forward, letting his breath ghost along the back of Paul's neck before he lands a rather intense kiss on the side, even finishing it up with a little lick from his tongue. Paul fucking groans, head tilting back slightly.  
Ringo beams, as George sighs and lights a cigarette.  
"Yeah, mate, yer gay."

can we buy a microwave  
3 members online

4:36 am

rigno: i can't sleep  
rigno: george snores too loudly

uncle macca: bitch shut up im making out w john

rigno: hA BITCH UR GAY

uncle macca: NO IM NOT

rigno: yea sure i just heard u whine johns name,,  
rigno: bitch calm tf down ur so loud

In the end, Ringo decides to throw open John's bedroom door to stop the noise.  
John screams, Paul screams and Ringo runs back to George's loving arms.

Nobody brings it up again.

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry for this absolute shit show,,, but im also not?  
kudos, comments, do whatever ya gotta my friends <3


End file.
